


Buckeroo

by Sziondaisy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal, Blackwatch Era, Blow Jobs, Fight Sex, I'm really not sure how to tag this, It's fight sex there's blood and bruises, M/M, Rimming, commander/subordinate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sziondaisy/pseuds/Sziondaisy
Summary: Jesse gets beaten up on a mission and Gabriel offers him private hand to hand lessons. 
When it comes to the final test, the stakes are high.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a real quick PWP. I'm not sure what happened.
> 
> Jesse's of age, early to mid 20s.

The mission itself is a success. Blackwatch is gone from the scene before anyone realises they are there, leaving Overwatch to take over and clean up the mess before the press get hold of the story.

Gabriel barely manages to take a seat on the troop transport before he’s mentally rerunning the mission, pulling each move apart, picking out the flaws and working out how to do things better. Faster. More accurate. No matter how good Blackwatch is, there’s always room for improvement. 

At least there are no major injuries to report this time. Gabriel smiles at that, a thin lipped smirk of happiness, let Morrison find something to protest this time. 

The only injury worth noting is Jesse’s pride. It takes a horrific beating when Jesse loses Peacekeeper across the room and ends up at the mercy of a hand to hand specialist. His body almost has more bruises than his pride. Almost. They’d be a whole lot more if Gabriel hadn’t been close enough to come and drag his ass out of the fire. 

The cowboy’s gun skills are unsurpassed by anyone Gabriel’s ever met, he’s seen shots that should be impossible, shots so perfect that they don’t look real, and shots that start a chain reaction of events that look like they should belong in a comedy. Jesse never, ever ceases to amaze him. Except when it comes to close combat fighting, then the only surprise is how bad he is. It’s all Jesse can do to throw his arms up defensively and hope for the best. It’s not like Gabriel hasn’t trained him, like every other Blackwatch member, he’s been part of every group lesson, every training scenario and sparring session Blackwatch has ever done, but it’s not enough. 

Jesse takes being rescued with gratitude and insult. Sure he’s thankful that the beating was short, but having his commander come to his rescue feels shameful. Blackwatch deserves better than his failure. Reyes deserves better. Jesse owes it to himself to BE better. 

He sits alone on the plane, taking up one of the whole bench seats for himself. Every inch the wounded man as he scolds himself for being the weak link in an otherwise strong chain. Around him the rest of Blackwatch congratulate each other on a job well done. The mood is light, cheerful, the night will end in drinking and card games, well deserved after their hard work. Gabriel doesn’t join in, even when Hadleigh and Wilson try and drag him into their conversation. 

He’s worried about Jesse, the solitude is out of character, usually the kid is the first one to suggest a night of fun. Has never turned down a chance to relax and forget the outside world exists, focus on something that isn’t bloodshed. 

Gabriel can’t sit and watch the kid mope, it’s annoying, at least that’s what he tells himself. He claps Hadleigh on the shoulder as he stands and Hadleigh gets the message loud and clear, ‘don’t disturb me’.

Jesse doesn’t acknowledge he has company when Gabriel takes a seat next to him on the bench, their thighs and shoulders touching. Even the physical touch isn’t enough to make Jesse crack a smile, usually he laps it up like he’s touch starved. Gabriel frowns, the kid’s more upset than he first predicted. 

Gabriel says nothing, there’s nothing to say that hasn’t been said a hundred times before, both on this mission and most of the ones before it. Jesse will speak when he’s ready. 

And eventually he does, his voice quiet so no one else hears him speak, there’s no need for it, the plane’s engines are loud enough to drown out everything but a shout. Gabriel has to listen hard to hear it. “I fucked up didn’t I?”

There’s no sense in lying, Gabriel’s never sugarcoated anything, “yeah, but you’re alive and in one piece, so let’s just be happy it wasn’t worse.” 

Jesse nods. His straggly hair hangs over his face as he hunches in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle as if it’s all that’s keeping his insides falling out. “You mad?”

Oh he had been, he’d been furious, but he’s not sure over what part, whether it was seeing Jesse taking a beating, having to rescue him again or that after all the training, Jesse still can’t hold his own. He has every right to be angry, Jesse’s been with Blackwatch for years, there’s no logical reason he’s still so clueless. “Might have been,” he says, slumping back in his chair, “but no, not now.” Seeing Jesse beating himself up is punishment enough. 

There’s no reply. 

“How about some private lessons?” Gabriel offers, “just you and me. We’ll see if we can’t knock some training through that thick head of yours.”

“Really?” Jesse asks, sitting up, looking cautiously interested. 

Gabriel takes in the black eye and bruised cheekbone, the split lip and red jaw, really it’s amazing that’s all Jesse suffered. “It’ll have to be late, off the clock. I can’t fit you-” 

“That’s fine, Boss, please. I’ll do whatever you want, just help me.” 

The miserable mood is lifted, Jesse looks like he’s just been offered the world. Gabriel almost feels sorry for him, if Jesse thinks he’s getting special treatment and gentle coaxing to be better...well, he’s about to get a rude awakening. 

\----------

Every night at eight, while the rest of Blackwatch eats dinner in the mess hall, Jesse stands off against Gabriel down in the empty gym. It starts off well, Jesse works hard, follows instructions and goes at Gabriel with everything he’s got. 

The idea with using the empty gym was to remove all distractions, which only works until he becomes the biggest distraction Jesse’s ever faced. They’re both sweaty, sticky and bruised, the smell of masculinity hangs heavy in the air. Jesse is shameless - and thinks he’s subtle - when he drops his shoulder as Gabriel attacks. Skin slaps against skin, Jesse inhales deeply, his face just inches from sweaty armpit. Above him, Gabriel rolls his eyes. 

The crash mats are soft, Gabriel’s blows are not. The ‘subtlety’ makes him hit harder.

Gabriel’s a good teacher. He plays into Jesse’s strengths at first - although Jesse never figures that out - taking a few lessons to build his student’s confidence by running through the basics, forcing Jesse to think on his feet to stay a step ahead. As they spar, falling into a familiar and enjoyable rhythm, Gabriel judges his skill level and mentally notes down the weakest areas. 

They meet every night for weeks. 

Gabriel kicks himself for not offering earlier, Jesse improves quickly, quicker than he’d expected. Never let it be said that Jesse doesn’t work hard with the right motivation, and Gabriel isn’t above letting himself be that motivation. Hell if Jesse wants to sniff sweaty armpit in order to work hard, Gabriel isn’t going to stop him. What it comes down to is that he’s proud, pats Jesse on a bruised shoulder, gives him a smile and a ‘good job’. Jesse beams and drinks up the praise like it’s all that matters in the world. It alone makes the constant bruises worth it. When Gabriel’s pleased, Jesse’s life seems simpler. His heart feels happy. 

Sometime during week six, Gabriel breaks the routine and stops showing up. No warning, no note, no explanation, no nothing. Hurt, Jesse looks for answers, but Gabriel doesn’t respond. Blackwatch training continues during the day, but it seems harder than usual, Gabriel pushes everyone to their breaking point and past it. Always obedient, his soldiers follow the barked orders without too much complaining, fighting past their aching bodies and fatigue to give Gabriel everything and more. He expects it when Jesse approaches him during a brief break to ask what happened to their private lessons, doesn’t mean he likes it. ‘Don’t mix work with downtime’ Gabriel growls at him and sends him off to run extra laps as punishment. 

Until he’s told otherwise, Jesse still turns up at the gym on time, dressed in his work out clothes. Ready for more despite the hard day’s training, his body suffers, aches like it never has before. Like an obedient dog waiting for its owner to come home, Jesse sits on the crash mats and pines. 

It hurts to be ignored by the man he idolises. He tries not to let it get to him.

For five days it continues. Outside of training, Gabriel may as well be the invisible man, Jesse doesn’t see him anywhere, not even for meals. He wonders what he’s done wrong for Gabriel to suddenly turn so cold against him. At least waiting in the gym gives him time to think. Picking over the last few days with a fine tooth comb yields no results, he’s done nothing that stands out as wrong, he’s worked hard and done well. It crosses his mind that maybe Gabriel isn’t coming because he knows it’s too much for McCree after the gruelling day of training. It has been rough and Jesse hasn’t been able to hide how tired he really is.

On the sixth day, Gabriel finally turns up, an hour later than their scheduled start time. Jesse jumps to his feet with an eagerness that isn’t lost on Gabriel. He stands to attention, doesn’t flinch under the scrutiny as dark eyes look him over, undressing him in their intensity. The worst of the bruises have healed to yellow and Gabriel clicks his tongue approvingly. 

“My quarters, tomorrow at the usual time.” 

Jesse opens his mouth to speak, but a hundred questions catch in his throat like glue choking him silent. By the time he finally wraps his head around what’s happening and picks a question, Gabriel is gone. The door swings closed behind him, heavy combat boots echo down the empty hallway. Jesse stares daggers at the door, still gaping like a fish, upset and angry with everything.

\----------

Morning brings a sense of dread that doesn’t fit with the bright sunlight streaming into his room. It’s a beautiful morning outside, not too hot, with a warm breeze and cloudless sky. Jesse spends the day holed up in his room, suffering under storm clouds of thick emotion. There’s no training, at least not for his unit, they all need a break after the ruthless week. 

He should be enjoying his break, instead he still looks for answers to his questions, deciding in the end that Gabriel’s decision not to continue their training either means he’s good enough or that he needed a rest. Neither of those answers sits well with him, purely because sparring with Gabriel has become his favourite thing. 

For hours he paces his tiny room, smoking through his stash of cigarettes in an attempt to calm his mind. It doesn’t help, his mind is superglued to uncertainty of what awaits him, be it good or bad. Logically it can’t be too bad, Gabriel never invites anyone into his private sanctum, so it should be an honour. Right?

Certainly doesn’t feel like it. It wouldn’t take more than a few words for Gabriel to set Jesse at ease, but again there’s nothing but silence. 

At lunchtime he braves the mess hall and grabs himself some food. The slop on his plate looks less appealing than usual, a few bites in he loses his appetite and pushes the tray away. Hadleigh and WIlson join him, drag him into a conversation about rifles, Jesse points out his weapon of choice is a revolver and rifle talk is lost on him. They laugh, Jesse stays to burn time.

He thinks back to his childhood, when his mother told him watching a clock only makes it go slower. At the time, as a hyperactive boy, that seemed impossible. Now though, he understands what she meant. Time ticks by so slowly that it feels like it’s standing still. 

Politely excusing himself from the conversation - others have come to join them now, the conversation shifts to joining the military. Jesse can’t relate, it feels like a good time to leave - he heads back to his room. 

By the time seven finally rolls around, Jesse’s reached an aggressive kind of calm. Concludes that whatever’s waiting for him is going to be the same regardless of how he approaches it, so he either takes it nervously, timid as a lamb or goes down fighting like a bear. Jesse McCree is no lamb. 

After a quick shower, some fresh clothes and a shave, Jesse makes his way to Gabriel’s room. Dinner waits in the mess hall and the hallways are busy with people making their way down, Jesse offers a mask of cheerful smiles and warm greetings to his friends, but doesn’t stop to talk. Inside, he sets himself in stone, he’s faced down rooms of armed attackers, taken more bullets than he can shoot in ten minutes and made a reputation for himself that can strike fear. He can handle anything Reyes throws at him, always has, always will.

He arrives a few minutes early, knocks on the heavy door and waits. The hallway is empty now, the officer hallways usually are, Jesse can hear his heartbeat. Palms slick with sweat, he wipes them down his trousers.

Gabriel greets him in slacks and a t-shirt, even the beanie is gone, revealing the short sides and curly top. Military issue haircut with a Reyes’ personal flair. Jesse almost chokes on his tongue, It’s the first time he’s ever seen him in anything less than light armour and a hoodie. Rude as it is, he stares, takes in the way the material clings to that broad, muscular frame. It’s a treat to see and that skin tight shirt should be illegal.

“You coming in or are you going to keep staring?”

“Yeah, Boss.” To both. He stares as he walks in, can’t get over the strange sight that is a relaxed Gabriel. The door slides shut behind him, the heavy locking mechanism clicks into place with too loud a snap. He’s trapped and Gabriel looks every inch the sleeping predator, all hulking muscle and raw strength. Jesse reminds himself that he’s a bear, not a lamb. 

Gabriel’s room is huge, far larger than his own oversized closet. It’s a paradox, everything and nothing like he expected his commander’s room to be. There’s a shelving unit to the left of the door, sparsely decorated with a handful of framed photos and books. Beyond that, snuggly built into the corner of the room is a large desk that faces the door, neatly organised with separate piles of files, most urgent closest to the console. A half empty cup of coffee sits abandoned on an Overwatch coaster. Behind the desk, floor to ceiling windows take up the entire back wall, with a view over the training grounds and armoury. The one way glass is tinted for privacy and Jesse spends a few good seconds imagining being fucked up against them, being able to see the crowds of people below them, but knowing they can’t see back. Voyeurism for wimps. On the right side of the room, hidden behind a screen, there’s a door leading to a small en-suite bathroom and a double bed covered in crisp white sheets. There’s barely a fold in the fabric the duvet is pulled so tight.

It’s immaculately clean - the kind of clean learnt by decades of military life - and smells of high end cigar smoke, coffee and the aftershave Jesse’s come to love.

It isn’t until Jesse looks down at Gabriel’s bare feet that he notices the thin crash mats. They won’t stop the pain of being slammed into the ground by a super soldier, but it’s kinder than hitting solid ground. Jesse’s thankful for the thought. He looks to Gabriel to explain but the older man is ignoring him as he finishes setting up the sparring space, keeps his back to Jesse like he’s shy about someone being in his room at all. 

Jesse can’t wrap his mind around it. Just to break the uncomfortable silence, he asks one of the questions that have been chewing his brain. “What’s going on, Boss?”

Gabriel grunts, leaves the question unanswered until he’s done pushing a visitor’s chair out of the way. The chair has never seen a visitor, Gabriel’s room isn’t a meeting space and outsiders aren’t welcome. Jesse feels somewhat smug about that, like he’s walking on hallowed ground. 

“I thought we’d try something new,” he says as he dusts his hands off on his thighs and stands, finally turning to face Jesse, “like strip poker, only with fighting instead of cards.” 

Jesse blinks, sure he’s misheard. “What now?”

“Strip poker with fighting instead of cards,” Gabriel says flatly. Irritated with repeating himself. 

Nope, no mishearing there, and god just the promise of it has a sudden burst of arousal flooding his body. He’d always wondered if Gabriel knew their sparring always made him hard, seems like he has his answer now, and if he doesn’t know, well, he’ll know soon enough. 

“Ain’t ever heard of strip fighting,” Jesse says. But he has seen men wrestle in oil and that sounds kind of like the same thing, either way, Gabriel’s going to be naked and they’re going to be able to touch skin on skin. 

“Made it up just for you.”

Fuck. Jesse’s almost swoons, it sounds too good to be true. Where’s the catch? Scratch that, it doesn’t matter, he’s already half hard, his standard issue pants tenting too tight. Never in his life has he needed something more. “Thanks boss. Alright, I’m game, what’s the rules?”

“Every time I pin you, you lose a piece of clothing. If you can pin me, I’ll do the same.” ‘Strip fighting’ sounded fairly self explanatory, but obviously not. 

Jesse stares back, slack jawed and eager. “What happens when I have no clothes left to lose?”

Gabriel’s smile turns sharp, wicked, ready to drop the catch. “Well,” he says, voice low, “if I’m still wearing clothes when you’re naked, I’ll kick you out and you can run back to your quarters showing your bare ass to the base. On the flip side, if I’m naked before you… you’re a smart guy, McCree, use your imagination.” 

Jesse’s hands, clammy with sweat toy with the red bandana around his neck, his breath hitches in his throat, caught around a lump that feels as large as Texas. He’s always had a good imagination. With a nod, he agrees to the terms. 

It all makes sense now, Gabriel greeting him dressed only in slacks and a shirt. Two items against Jesse’s full attire. He’s been handed a fighting chance. Gabriel doesn’t want to kick him out, as amusing as it would be to see him run home naked, there’s a lot more fun to be had if Jesse stays. 

It won’t be the first time they’ve had sex, but they’ve never had time to enjoy it before. Their whole sexual relationship is built on desperation and adrenaline highs. Quick, dirty after battle sex, that lasts just long enough for them to rut off against each other on the nearest wall or closest flat surface. It’s a means of reassurance, to assure each other they’re still alive. It’s silent whisperings of ‘I’m glad it wasn’t you who died’. 

But this, in a locked room with all night to play, is something new. Gabriel has spent months mulling over the pros and cons of letting Jesse in and taking their relationship somewhere new. There’s no doubt is his mind that Jesse wants more than the quick trysts, he deserves more too. There’s a limit on what Gabriel can offer, both as his commander and as a man. It’s a bad idea to date Jesse, starting with the power imbalance and ending with Gabriel preferring to keep everyone at arm’s length, that way it hurts less when they die. On the plus side, it’s Jesse. Gabriel wants him all to himself. 

Gabriel’s a wall both mentally and physically. Sometimes, Jesse gets to knock a brick out and see what lies behind, but he had resigned himself to never getting closer. Although now he’s not so sure, if only because he’s not entirely sure what Gabriel’s offering. 

There are no answers yet. He doesn’t mind, it’s typical Gabriel style and he’s used to it. The truth will come out eventually.

Gabriel finishes with the mats and double checks there’s nothing either of them can be injured on if - when - they’re thrown. Visiting medical would be a sad end to the night. It’s hot in the room, Jesse shifts, would take off his jacket if it didn’t mean losing an advantage. Gabriel crosses the room to take a drink before they start. Ever the opportunist, Jesse takes the chance to slide up behind his him and run his hands over broad, muscular shoulders and smooth down the black t-shirt, pausing to feel the muscles shift and tense. Gabriel allows it for a few seconds, until he replaces the glass on the side table, then elbows Jesse hard in the ribs, listens to him stagger back and grunt in pain. “This isn’t a charity, McCree, nothing’s free here tonight, you want this, then earn it.” 

When he turns around, Jesse looks like a kicked puppy, all big dark eyes and pout as he rubs his left side. He almost feels bad, it was perhaps a little harder than he intended it to be.

“Alright,” Jesse says with renewed enthusiasm, “I’m gonna earn every inch of your ass. That’ll show ya.”

Gabriel barks with laughter, “you think so?”

That’s all the warning Jesse gets before Gabriel’s on him like a bear on honey. There’s no time for him to take a defensive pose and shift his weight, his balance is in all the wrong places. Desperately he tries to adjust his weight and keep himself on his feet, it isn’t enough. The mat numbs his fall, but Jesse still hits the floor hard, grunting as the air is knocked from his lungs. He blinks, dazed. 

“Take something off, McCree.” 

Jesse takes his hat off and walks over to the shelving unit, placing it far out of the danger zone of rolling bodies. The hat’s survived war zones and explosions, Jesse doesn’t trust it would survive Reyes, nothing usually does.

As soon as his foot touches the mat again, Gabriel lunges. This time, Jesse’s ready and side steps at the last minute, taking the second where Gabriel tries to correct himself to bring his elbow down hard. It hits with more force than intended, Gabriel hits the mat. 

Jesse looks stunned that it actually worked and he knows he won’t be getting another easy opportunity like that again. Still, there’s only one piece of clothing on Gabriel now. One item of clothing between him and a great night.

Gabriel looks pleased when he stands, all the late nights of training have definitely paid off. If nothing else comes of it, at least he knows Jesse will be able to hold his own next time he needs to. He pulls his shirt over his head and without a word, throws it haphazardly to the side. 

Time to up the game, Jesse obviously knows the basics well enough. 

Gabriel takes the offensive and it’s all Jesse can do to keep blocking the endless torrent of blows. Punch, punch, kick, punch. Jesse’s forced on the defensive, not where he likes to be, there’s no room to get a hit in without opening himself up. He ducks low to avoid a fist in his face, rolls to his left and swipes his leg out in a wide arc, it finds only air. 

“Come on, McCree, I’ve taught you better than this.” 

And that’s a true enough statement if ever there was one, but that was back when Jesse wasn’t distracted by the object of his desire standing half naked in front of him. The rules have changed and it’s just not fair any more.

Jesse loses his boots, bandana, chestpiece, shirt, belts and socks, all within five minutes. It’s starting to look grim. Only trousers and underwear left, two chances to end the night with a bang. 

Without the light armour to protect him, Gabriel’s punches feel worse than ever, raining down heavy on his already sore body. Suddenly it hits him why Gabriel stopped coming to training, it was a rest, to heal up in preparation for this. The floor’s hard, unrelenting even with the mats to slightly cushion his falls. He can taste blood from a split lip or from biting his tongue, doesn’t matter, a hit of biotics will fix him. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a dick,” Jesse wheezes as he crawls back to his feet and stands up, automatically back in a defensive pose. His bare feet are clammy with sweat and stick to the vinyl matting, there’s more grip than he had with his socks and he starts to rate his chances a little higher. Maybe he should have taken his socks off first...

“Every day,” Gabriel replies with a smirk. He’s enjoying this. He’s barely broken a sweat and his opponent is dripping.

“Anyone ever tell you they want your dick?” Jesse says, buying time to catch his breath.

“Every day when you’re around. You’re about as subtle as a tank.” 

“I’ve gotten better.” 

Gabriel laughs, but it’s cold, there’s no joke here, “really? So why are you losing now?”

“‘Cause you’re better at this than me.” 

“No,” Gabriel frowns at him, Jesse winces back, the look holds more weight that the punches. “I’ll tell you why. You’re so distracted by me that you’re opening yourself up, letting me get in close and take every advantage. You’re not following any of the lessons I taught you, you’re not thinking ahead to judge my next move, all you’re looking for is the next chance to get a grope in. Stop thinking with your dick, McCree, and start thinking with your head! Unless you want to run home naked, in which case keep going as you are.” 

Jesse takes a deep breath and lets that sink in. There’s no point in denying it, he’s been caught red handed. He can’t help it, Gabriel is right there, only a few feet away, half naked and sweaty. Oh how many late nights he spent wondering about how Gabriel would look naked, how taught and scarred his skin would be, how his muscles would move and pull. Now he has answers to those questions and he can’t help but want to memorise every little detail for later. 

Gabriel’s right though, this isn’t the time or place to go for touching. He has every right to be angry when he set a challenge and Jesse is off doing his own thing. Jesse sighs, releasing tension, resetting his body, he wants to win so much that he’s unconsciously letting himself lose. “Ok.” Time to focus.

Gabriel’s taken aback, it doesn’t show on his face, but in how his body relaxes and his stance shifts minutely. He’d expected more of a denial, at the very least some half assed excuse about how that wasn’t what was happening. “Good, now focus.”

Jesse straightens up, strengthens his pose and takes a deep breath. Focus, win and take the prize. Don’t go for the prize before it’s won. 

Gabriel’s done talking and makes his move, lunging forward with all his weight, catching Jesse’s stomach with his shoulder. It’s the same move that had Jesse lose Peacekeeper all those weeks ago. Jesse reacts no better this time, the momentum throws him off balance. 

Suddenly he’s staring up at the lights again. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t wait for an order this time, just climbs back to his feet and kicks his trousers off. It’s the final round, they’re both down to one item of clothing and given how fast Jesse’s been stripped, it doesn’t look good for him. He takes up the strongest defensive pose he can, planting his right foot back as balance, predicting another tackle. This time he’s not going down. 

Only he is, Gabriel counters the pose by going low and sweeping his leg out in a wide arc, just inches off the mat. It takes Jesse’s left foot out from under him, but he doesn’t hit the mat, he crumples and staggers to regain his footing. It buys Gabriel enough time to catch him in a choke lock, his thick forearm around Jesse’s heaving throat. Squeezing the air from his lungs. 

“Give up, McCree.” 

Jesse frowns, blood drips down his face from his nose, laying streaks of red across Gabriel’s arm. He looks up at his captor through sweat soaked hair, fresh determination written over his face. Jesse doesn’t give up, ever. No, he prides himself on having never given up anything in his life, and he certainly isn’t giving Gabriel the honour of being the first. 

If it ends with him in the medbay then so be it, but the last thing Jesse will ever do is slap the mat and submit. Never. Not when running back to his room naked and missing out on some quality time is the inevitable outcome of submission.

It’s that fire that Gabriel likes and he knows how to stoke the embers it to make it burn brighter. His choice of words isn’t coincidence and Jesse reacts just as expected. No matter how many times McCree is kicked and torn down, he gets up and keeps fighting, failure is not in his dictionary. Reyes can’t even count how many times he’s torn the kid down, about him aim, his appearance, his manners and lack of respect. Each and every time, McCree’s met it head on and come back at him harder, more determined. When he’s told to give up or let something go, he does the opposite. It’s not always a good thing. 

But Gabriel can respect that. Sees a bit of his own stubborn self in the brat.

Jesse gasps for air and twists in Gabriel’s grip, his blunt nails scratching at the solid forearm constricting his breathing. Small balls of light flutter in his vision as he struggles against the lack of oxygen. There’s no doubt in his mind that Gabriel will choke him into unconsciousness if he doesn’t do something soon. And it has to be soon, before he’s too weak to keep fighting. 

Gabriel thinks he has the upper hand and realises too late that he’s walked himself straight into one of McCree’s suicidal traps.

The thing with Jesse is that he doesn’t always think before he acts, instinct kicks in and he follows it blindly. Sometimes it works in his favour, other times it gets him injured. This time it almost breaks his neck. 

Jesse makes one last attempt, throwing all his chips in on a good outcome. He pulls himself up small, braces his feet and uses Gabriel’s body weight against him. Weight thrown forward, pulling Gabriel off balance, Jesse sends them both into a forward roll. Gabriel can’t counter without risking shattering McCree’s windpipe, he’s forced to go down. 

The next thing Gabriel knows is that he’s on his back and Jesse is sitting cross legged on his chest. A triumphant king on his throne. He’s not pissed he lost, he’s proud, the cowboy’s taken one of his own moves and used it against him. Although Jesse’s shit eating grin and blood stained teeth quickly replace that feeling with the urge to slap him. Damn the brat will never let him live this one down.

“Would’ya look at that...how’s it feel bein’ down there, Boss?” 

Gabriel scowls. Jesse laughs. 

Jesse’s a heavy weight on his chest. He’s grown a lot from the scrawny kid picked up at seventeen and he looks good for it. He’s filled into his height, building strong muscles under his tanned skin. There’s still a layer of puppy fat around his middle, soft and pliant, it rolls as Jesse leans forward. No amount of exercise or sparring sessions has ever managed to thin it out. 

Gabriel likes it, enjoys taking a handful of love handle in each hand and squeezing, manipulating the pliable flesh until Jesse is mewling into his touch. Damn if that doesn’t make the brat cuter when he leans in for more, bringing his rock hard cock just inches from willing lips. There’s already a wet patch in the dark fabric, Gabriel resists the urge to lean up and taste it.

“Don’t get cocky, McCree.” Gabriel hisses, slapping the skin hard enough to watch it ripple. While Jesse’s distracted, he bucks his hips and twists, throwing him off. Jesse hits the mat with a sticky splat. The game’s won, Gabriel kicks his pants off to confirm it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to let Jesse taste an easy victory.

Jesse’s in heaven, everything about Gabriel is gorgeous. There’s not an ounce of fat on his muscular frame, like a greek statue, hard and carved from stone, all defined muscles covered with dark hair. Absolutely perfect. He can’t help but look down to the half hard cock swinging between thick thighs, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but this is better, this is the whole picture and not a sneak peek. His mouth waters as he imagines taking those large balls on his mouth and sucking. 

There’s no chance of that yet though, Gabriel doesn’t submit and let Jesse taste the win. Gabriel doesn’t lose, he’s incapable of it, his pride won’t let him take second place. His fall out with Morrison is testament to that. Jesse might have won the chance to stay, but Gabriel’s in it to prove he’s still top dog. 

They scrap on the ground like two schoolboys, all accepted rules of combat out the window in favour of playing dirty. Fingers and fists find old wounds, seeking weakspots to gain the upper hand. It’s Jesse’s forte. Deadlock wasn’t big on hand-to-hand, but scraps and fist fights were common and Jesse took more than his fair share of them. 

Gabriel is heavier and tries to use that to his advantage, but Jesse is like an oil slicked eel, writhing and twisting out of every hold. Reyes’ snarl of annoyance is music to his ears. 

They’re a knot of limbs on the mat, rolling over each other, skin sliding against skin, hard muscle meeting soft fat. All grunts and moans as knees and fists connect with already bruised flesh. They’re both in their element, shamelessly groping and exploring between raining down blows. 

Gabriel’s hands slide low, gripping Jesse’s ass cheeks through the fabric of his boxers. He lands a heavy slap to the left and brutally squeezes the flesh. Jesse jerks away, but doesn’t get far. Before he knows it, he’s on his back with Gabriel on his chest, knees planted on either side of his head. He’s pinned, Gabriel’s won and Jesse couldn’t be happier.

“Good view?” Gabriel purrs down, leaning forward enough to drag his balls over Jesse’s chin. 

Jesse licks his lips and manages a nod, pupils blown wide with arousal. Gabriel smirks knowingly and traces a line of saliva along Jesse’s bottom lip with his thumb, there’s no surprise when Jesse tries to suck the digit into his mouth. Gabriel tuts loudly and pulls his hand away. Jesse tries to follow the touch, but his head is trapped in a vice that keeps getting tighter, like a snake constricting it’s prey. 

Gabriel’s still only half hard, but Jesse’s eager to right that. He wants to take the thick length in his mouth and suck on the fleshy foreskin, feel the soft length grow hard against his tongue as Gabriel fucks his throat. Everytime he tries, Gabriel pulls back, keeping himself just out of reach.

Jesse’s on the other end of the scale, cock hard as iron, tenting the material of his boxers. The wet spot in the fabric grows larger with every useless thrust into air, seeking some delicious friction but finding nothing but empty torture. It won’t come anytime soon either, they have all night and it has become a lesson in patience. 

Preferably they’ll be a lot of stamina with that patience. Gabriel’s in a good mind to ride Jesse, but he isn’t putting the effort into stretching himself if Jesse will blow his load after a few thrusts or worse, before he’s even fully inside.

Jesse sees Gabriel’s mouth move, can hear something like words, but it’s mumbled through the thighs wrapped around his head. It’s like listening underwater, the only consistent sound is blood rushing through his ears.

The vice loosens. “I said, is this what gets you off, cowboy?” Gabriel’s amused, he doesn’t need to see the evidence of an erection, it’s written all over Jesse’s face, “you want to be suffocated by my sweaty thighs?” 

“Yes,” Jesse chokes on the word, it’s out of his mouth before he can even think about hiding the truth, lying to save face. That’s his problem though isn’t it? Talking without thinking. 

Gabriel laughs, not the usual sarcastic one he uses to demean someone, but one that actually sounds happy. It doesn’t fit with the dark smirk on his face. 

“Say it, McCree,” Gabriel growls, “say, ‘yes Commader Reyes, this is my filthy little kink and I want to lick your sweaty balls’.”

Jesse swallows hard. Gabriel’s weight bears down on his chest, limiting his breathing. “It is, sir.” 

“That’s not what I asked you to say, McCree.” 

The blush turns McCree as red as his spilled blood. He feels lightheaded and weak, humiliated. Mortified. Caught in a trap with no escape and the man of his fantasies working out every little kink he has. Eyes closed, he blocks out the grinning face above him. “Yes, Commander Reyes, this is my filthy little kink and I want to lick your sweaty everything.” 

“Better,” the older man hums as he pats Jesse’s cheek, “you want to get off now?” 

“Yes,” Jesse hisses, it’s a needy and desperate little sound. 

“Where are your manners?”

“Yes, please, sir?” 

“Better.” Gabriel reaches back, eyes still locked on Jesse’s face as he slides a hand down the fabric until he finds the hard length. It’s impressive, long and thick, hot under his fingers. It’s not the first time he’s seen it or had his hand around it, they’ve had plenty of fun before, but it isn’t until Gabriel gets his hands on it that he remembers just how big Jesse is.

Jesse grits his teeth and bucks his hips, thrusting hard into the dry palm. Pistoning his hips as fast as he can. 

The hand disappears. 

Jesse chokes, drops his hips back to the floor with a whine. “Sir?”

“Slow down, stop rushing for the end. Are you incapable of just enjoying the moment?”

Jesse wants to argue and Gabriel’s face dares him to try.

He tries anyway, just to test the waters, see what he can really get away with. Lifting his head, he buries his face in Gabriel’s groin, nosing against his balls and sneaking his tongue out to taste. It smells like sweat, hot and humid against his face. His mouth works hard, opening wide to swallow as much in as possible, it tastes as good as it smells. 

Above him, Gabriel looks bored, it’s exactly what he expected to happen and he’s not impressed. He raises two fingers and roughly pushes on Jesse’s forehead, forcing his head back to the mat. “Patience. You’ve spent weeks trying to cop a feel of me, but now I’m here and willing, you’re skipping the opportunity to finish early?”

“What’s the matter, Boss, you can’t keep up with me and go more than once tonight?” 

“You’re awful cocky for a man with a dick on his face.” 

Jesse snorts, “ _cocky_ ” 

Gabriel rolls his eyes and reaches back again, this time ignoring the centre of Jesse’s need. Jesse bites his lip, bucks up anyway, wants to prove he can last all night and longer. Gabriel punishes him. There’s a bruise under Jesse’s third rib, slightly yellowed by age, but still large enough to be tender. Deceptively gentle, he brushes the spot and when Jesse relaxes, he digs his thumb into it just to see the cowboy squirm. 

Jesse bucks and swears, trying to twist away. It hurts, pain blisters under his skin, threading out along his ribcage like fire. His hands grip Gabriel’s massive thighs, short nails leaving crescents in the firm skin. Gabriel’s too heavy a weight to dislodge and his shouts of annoyance are going unheeded. 

Jesse does the only thing he can think of, he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the sensitive flesh of Gabriel’s inner thigh. There’s no blood, just satisfaction as Gabriel jerks back like he’s been bitten by a venomous snake. 

“You little shit.” 

Jesse growls, rises up onto his elbows and spits venom, “you expect me to lay back and take your pain without retaliation? I’m not your punching bag.” 

Gabriel just grins. It’s not right, there’s no anger just...Jesse looks down and Gabriel is hard, the impressive length jutting out proudly as it curves up towards his stomach. Jesse eyes it with confusion, brows knotted as it dawns on him that he’s being goaded, this is exactly what Gabriel wants. He wants the sneaky, underhanded, scrap of a no rules fight. Quickly, Jesse runs through all of the times they’ve fucked - and he can’t call it anything else, they’ve never had sex and have certainly never made love. They fuck, hard, fast and brutal - every single time has been prefaced with a fight of some kind. 

Well if that’s what Gabriel wants, Jesse is just fine with that.

He swings himself up and shoves his pants down, catching them on a toe and kicking them across the room. Before Gabriel even has a chance to register what’s happening, Jesse is on him, fists tight, teeth bared. 

It’s even harder to fight naked, Gabriel is one solid lump of man, there’s nothing to grab to pin him, no fabric to snatch and hold. Jesse’s lucky if he can loop an arm or leg around the older man.

Pain burns down his spine, scratch marks bloom across his skin, three angry, red marks from his neck to his tailbone. There’s a slap on his ass and teeth at his collarbone, the scratch of Gabriel’s short beard is like needles on his tender skin.

It’s gone past fighting dirty. It’s filthy, unmannered and nasty. 

They both snatch and claw for the advantage. Jesse loses again and again, but Gabriel isn’t unscathed. He bleeds and bruises much to Jesse’s satisfaction. 

In a brief moment of clarity, Jesse realises they both have to work the next day and it’s going to hurt. He lays in Gabriel harder, if he’s going to suffer then he’s taking his commander down with him. 

Petty, yes, but it feels good to know Gabriel is going to sit through a meeting with Morrison while covered in his marks. 

Gabriel rolls, twisting away from Jesse. He uses the momentum to unbalance him and pin him down on his stomach, arms caught behind his back in a merciless grip. Gabriel’s kind enough to reach down with his free hand and maneuver Jesse’s erection back between his thighs so it isn’t crushed against the floor.

Jesse hisses and spits curses like he’s just met the devil. His hips roll, looking for friction, but Gabriel is giving him nothing to work with and his cock is in the wrong position to grind his pleasure out. 

“Always so impatient,” Gabriel tuts.

Like a wild stallion being harnessed for the first time, Jesse’s having none of it. He bucks and fights, twists and contorts his body into ugly angles. Above him, Gabriel laughs and rides his bucking bronco with ease. He’s heavier and Jesse can’t keep this level of fighting up for long.

When he settles, panting heavy and arms feeling like they’ve been wrenched free of his sockets, Gabriel slides down to sit at the top of his thighs. “Play nice and I’ll give you a treat,” Gabriel purrs as he spreads Jesse’s ass with one hand and slides his thick cock between the cleft. Slow and lazy, he fucks between the soft cheeks. 

“Boss,” Jesse whines, breath hitching, “please. You’re killin’ me.”

“I’m going to let your wrists go and you’re going to keep them where they are, aren’t you, McCree?”

Jesse whines, low and pathetic.

Gabriel smacks his ass, the sharp sound cutting the air. Jesse jerks, bites his lip to keep from begging and nods, finally muttering out a, “yes, Boss.” 

Better. Gabriel lets go and true to his word, Jesse doesn’t move. “Good boy.”

Jesse wants the praise, focuses hard on earning more.

Free to explore at his own speed, Gabriel drags his hands down scarred skin, over healing bruises and bleeding scratches, follows the curves and dips of fat and muscle. Years of hard training and tough missions have moulded Jesse into something great, far from the soft, batty teenager he dragged out of Deadlock. 

Gabriel spits in his hand, slicks himself for a frictionless glide and grabs two handfuls of Jesse’s ass, pushing the meaty globes together and sliding between. With each long thrust his tip peeks out at Jesse’s tailbone, foreskin pulled back, glans shiny with fluids.

While Gabriel would be happy to slip and slide his way to pleasure, Jesse isn’t having it. He clenches his muscles and squeezes, all to remind Gabriel he’s still there and wanting. This isn’t one way pleasure and he’s not about to give up his own hard earned release.

He feels like he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life. Gabriel’s so close, teasing him with this instead of fucking him into the mat, it’s unfair. Jesse’s impatience peaks. “Please, Boss, can you just fuck me now?”

“No.” Gabriel feels Jesse deflate beneath him, it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “Roll over,” he says as he moves off Jesse’s thighs and sits on the mat, “come here.” 

Jesse moves like the floor is fire, he can’t fulfil the request fast enough. Gabriel gets a lapful of eager cowboy, pressing their bodies together as close as possible, relishing the feeling of skin on skin. 

“You going to stop whining now?” 

Jesse just nods and runs his hands adoringly over Gabriel’s body. Planes of pure muscle tense and quiver under his fingers, covered skin that’s smoother than he imagined it would be. Gabriel’s a powerhouse. Jesse is ashamed at how safe he feels, he’s an adult, not a child scared of thunder. Yet here he is, wrapped in the arms of a man he’s stupidly fallen in love with and it feels like nothing could get to him.

Gabriel’s fingers find a dusky nipple and tweak the sensitive flesh, rolling it between forefinger and thumb. Jesse trembles, mutes himself by nibbling Gabriel’s collarbone and sucking bruises into the skin. His hands subconsciously find Gabriel’s nipples to mirror the movement, stopping only to thumb the nubs softly before continuing on his journey of exploration. 

“If you come now, are you going to be able to go again?”

Jesse nods quickly, rocks his hips forward to grind his dick against Gabriel’s, removes his lips from Gabriel’s neck just long enough to say, “fuck yes! As many times as you want.” His eyes flutter closed as Gabriel chuckles and wraps a hand around them both, stroking them in unison. ‘As many times as possible’ sounds like a challenge Gabriel wants to accept, maybe with Jesse tied to the bed, sobbing for another. He makes a note of the idea, files it away for next time. 

Jesse bites his lip, teeth opening the split from earlier, coppery blood tingles over his tongue. The pain feels good against the pleasure. He’s too close, wants to enjoy Gabriel’s touch for longer. Muscles clamp down all over his body as he tries to hold back, forcing his body into a subdued calm. Sweat drips down his back, sticks his hair to the nape of his neck, he can’t breathe through his racing heart. It’s too much but nowhere near enough.

“It’s ok, Jesse, you can let go, I’ve got you,” Gabriel whispers against his neck as his free hand wraps around Jesse’s back, settling at the base of his spine, pulling him close.

As if the floodgates open, permission granted, Jesse abandons the last threads of his control and it’s all he can do to grip Gabriel’s shoulders and hold on for dear life as he falls headfirst into everything he wants and needs. He loses control of his body to aching pleasure that burns too hot, constricts his breathing and makes him feel lightheaded. He knows he must sound needy, gasping and whining as he rolls his hips and thrusts into that too-tight hand. It’s almost painful how much he needs this. 

Years of watching, wanting, fantasising, idolisation and he finally has what he’s craved. After years of catching glimpses of Reyes half naked in the locker room, months of after battle fucks and weeks of hard training, he’s finally where he wants to be.

The hand around his dick is relentless in its pace, gun calloused and firm around the over sensitive flesh. If Gabriel is half as close to Jesse then he doesn’t show it. He’s composed, like he’s about to sit down for dinner. 

Jesse wants to wreck him and watch his composure slip.

Later. Orgasm first. 

He ruts forward, chasing his pleasure like a greyhound on a rabbit. Gabriel whispers encouragement in his ears, but he’s too far gone to hear what’s said over the rush of blood that deafens him. 

Jesse clings to Gabriel’s shoulders for dear life, nails curled inwards. Stars behind his eyelids. Meaningless babble falls from his slack lips, he doesn’t know what he’s saying, hopes it’s nothing that can be used against him later. 

His body burns. Sweat drips.

Gabriel just holds him close and continues stroking, leaves his own dick alone when he pulls himself closer to the edge than he’d like. His arousal dies down, bubbling under the surface, happy to be ignored for a while. He leans his face in close to Jesse’s neck, takes a deep breath, inhales his unique scent, tobacco, gun smoke and soap mixed with sweat. He understands why Jesse likes smelling him now, it’s addictive. At the base of Jesse’s neck - where it will be hidden by his bandana - Gabriel bites hard and sucks, leaving a large purple bruise, just like the one Jesse left him.

Jesse comes hard, thrown over a cliff edge into a stormy sea of pleasure, shouting Gabriel’s name in a hoarse voice as he falls headfirst, unable to stop himself. Back arched, head thrown back in ecstasy, hair stuck to his face, face warped into a mask of bliss. Momentarily he forgets to breathe and chokes on his next inhale, Gabriel mouths his adam’s apple as it bobs. Jesse rides the waves as far as he can, the hand still stroking his cock is too much. It’s getting painful yet his hips still buck forward for more. 

Gabriel thinks this is the best Jesse’s ever looked, blissed out and trembling. His voice so heavy with lust that it barely sounds like him at all. Jesse jerks against his chest, whining pathetically for more, telling Gabriel how perfect he is - in the future he’ll say he doesn’t remember, but he’ll blush every time Gabriel mentions it. 

Gabriel pulls the boneless form forward and just holds him, savouring the rare moment of tranquility, because damn he can’t remember a time Jesse was ever this quiet. Cum ribbons them both in white, like a birthday gifts. He pays it no attention, resists the urge to make Jesse lick it off. 

Jesse leans heavily into the embrace, finding a comfortable spot under Gabriel’s jaw to rest his head and breath in his favourite scent. He presses closer for warmth, the room isn’t uncomfortably cold but his sweaty skin is drying clammy. He shivers. 

“S’good, boss,” he mumbles. He can feel Gabriel’s lips on his shoulder, hovering over the bite mark, just close enough for his beard to scratch at the skin. 

Gabriel licks the spot, it’s not bleeding but it’s already red and raw, there’s no way it doesn’t sting. Jesse unsuccessfully tries to suppress a shiver, blames it on the cold. Gabriel’s mouth is hot, like a furnace on his chilly skin. His lips feel firm and soft, Jesse imagines how wonderful a kiss would be, how scratchy his beard would be. Gabriel would kiss hard he’s sure of it, too much passionate aggression to settle for soft and gentle. But all these thoughts will remain in his head, unanswered. Gabriel doesn’t like intimacy, it edges too close to romance and love. 

Really it’s a joke, here he is cuddled up in Gabriel’s lap while the older man strokes his back and holds him like a lover, but it’s the kissing that’s too much. Jesse almost snorts at the ridiculousness.

He could happily stay where he is forever, but he doesn’t. When his limbs start feeling like his own again, he sits back, reluctantly separating himself from the warm embrace to deal with Gabriel. He whined when the pleasure was all one sided, doesn’t think it’s right to take his own and leave his boss suffering. Not that he looks like he’s suffering, but Jesse’s sure he could wear the same face while getting tortured. 

Although he’s managed to coordinate his limbs into moving, Jesse hasn’t regained control of his vocal chords. He settles for pushing Gabriel back with a hand to his chest. Gabriel complies, one brow raised in question as he uncrosses his legs and spreads them out in front as he leans back on his elbows, willing to indulge Jesse and see what he has planned. 

Really, Jesse hasn’t thought it through and there is no plan, all he immediately wants is to drink in the beautiful sight of naked Gabriel. There’s a fresh swell of arousal pooling in his stomach, tingling through his limbs and squeezing around his heart. God bless youthful recuperation times. Gabriel notices it too and snorts a smile. 

Gabriel’s cock is thick and hard, dark with need, oozing pearly pre-cum through the foreskin. Unlike Jesse he has the stamina to last until the end. One mind blowing orgasm is better in his mind than a few smaller ones. Quality of quantity, one day he’ll teach that to Jesse. “You going to do something or are you going to stare at me all night? Don’t you get bored of doing that?”

“Shhh,” Jesse hums as he licks his lips. How could he ever get bored of it? That’s laughable. It’s disgusting how composed Gabriel is, streaked in cum, waiting for Jesse to make a move. Jesse can barely string two words together, Gabriel looks like he could give a speech without batting an eyelid. 

Jesse’s struck with a sudden urge to suck Gabriel into incoherence. He’s never given a blowjob before, but really, how hard can it be? 

Nothing about Gabriel is small. Jesse eyes the monster before him, unsure where to start. He crawls forward on his hands and knees and settles between hot thighs. Gabriel’s eyes widen as he realises what Jesse has planned, but he makes no move to stop him. Tentatively, Jesse licks the pearly beads of liquid from the tip, it’s not unpleasant. He’d expected worse. Gaining courage, he parts his lips and takes the entire head into his mouth. 

Gabriel watches him through dark eyelashes. His fingers thread through Jesse’s hair, pushing lanky strands out of his face so he can see Jesse’s mouth work his length. He moans low and lusty, tosses his head back and sinks into the feeling.

Jesse can taste his own cum, still warm on salty skin. It’s bitter and aggravates him because it masks the pure taste of Gabriel. Just to get it over with and get back to what he was enjoying, he licks it up with broad strokes of his tongue. 

Gabriel’s whole body vibrates with the force of the appreciative growl that bubbles up from his chest. Seeing Jesse lick up his own spillages ranks high on the list of best things he’s ever seen. 

Jesse grows bolder with every moan and touch. Knows he can’t be doing bad if Gabriel sounds like that. He swirls his tongue, sucks on the foreskin, catches it between his lips and tugs lightly. Gabriel smacks his around the head and growls out, ‘watch the teeth.’

It’s not the kind of blowjob Gabriel generally likes, Jesse is sloppy, it’s too wet, too clumsy to get him off, but overall it isn’t too bad. Nothing he can’t train out of him with some lessons.

Jesse grins, slides his tongue between foreskin and glans, circles the smooth skin and dips the tip of his tongue into the slit. It’s working just like he wanted, slowly he starts to tear down the calm, collected facade and see the unguarded side of Gabriel. 

Cockily, he thinks he can take more, can drag more moans and pleased hisses than he already is. He flattens his tongue, sinking down on the length, feels the blunt head make contact with the back of his throat. Still he tries to take more and...he chokes. Gabriel jerks on a handful of hair and yanks Jesse off him, before reflex has him bite down. 

“What the fuck was that?”

Jesse gags. Dry heaves and coughs until his throat relaxes. Tears stream down his cheeks as his eyes water and his lungs burn from gulping in air between gags. His body feels weak, turning red with embarrassment. Wounded pride makes it hard to look at Gabriel and see the scowl he knows is there. Oh he’s fucked up again and just when he was doing so well.

Amazing how something can go from sexy to not in less that thirty seconds. 

Gabriel waits for an answer and eventually he gets one, punctuated with more coughs. “Jus’ trying to do it good.” 

It takes every ounce of willpower for Gabriel not to roll his eyes and call Jesse an idiot. “You’ve done this before, yeah?”

Jesse stays quiet, but that’s all the answer Gabriel needs. 

“You’re an idiot,” he can’t hold that back any longer, it needs saying. 

Jesse looks hurt, Gabriel can see the way his shoulders drop slightly and he draws himself in. 

Humiliated, Jesse mumbles at the floor, “it didn’t look that hard, I’ve seen it done enough times.”

“I’m going to take a stab and guess you watched porn for tips.” Jesse’s face flares redder and he shifts uncomfortably. Bingo. “You can’t learn shit from porn, McCree.”

“It’s sucking a dick, how hard can it be?” Jesse argues defensively.

“Hard enough for you to choke yourself apparently.”

Yeah. Ok. Jesse has to give Gabriel that one, there’s still a sting in his throat. He looks up expecting Gabriel to laugh at him, but instead he sees something softer, forgiving, it catches him off guard. 

Sometimes Gabriel forgets how young Jesse is and how inexperienced he is with everything but a gun. They spend so much time together - training, missions, meals, poker games, celebratory drinks when everything goes well - that there isn’t much time left for Jesse to find a partner and blow of steam. It’s a wonder the kid isn’t a complete virgin.

With that, it occurs to Gabriel that if Jesse has never given proper oral then he probably hasn’t ever received it either. Best rectify that. “Lets try something else. Lay back.” 

Sceptical, Jesse does as he’s asked. Gabriel lays beside him, top to tail so they can suck each other off at the same time. “Go slow,” Gabriel instructs, “don’t take too much and watch your teeth.” 

Jesse nods, glad to be given a second chance to prove himself. Gabriel’s still hard, he’s thankful for that as he takes him into his mouth again, clumsily fumbling his way through. Gabriel groans and forces his hips still, what his protege lacks in skill he makes up for in eagerness. Jesse’s listened to the commands and happily sucks away, curling his lips around his teeth to avoid another accident. 

“Nice, Jess.” 

Jesse’s not sure if it’s the praise or the use of his nickname that makes him moan. Probably both. He can count on one hand the number of times Gabriel’s called him anything but McCree - not counting insults or the list (if he did then he’s sure they outweigh the use of ‘McCree’).

Feeling bolder, Jesse puts the gagging incident behind him and focuses solely on the task. It’s enjoyable to undo Gabriel like this, listen to the moans and whispered compliments and know he’s the reason. Reaching out, he runs his hands over the strongest thighs he’s ever seen, tentative touches at first, but they quickly grow more confident when Gabriel doesn’t complain. And god how long has he waited for this, to be allowed to touch and explore, it’s better than he ever imagined late at night in the showers. 

Gabriel’s in no rush, he watches as Jesse wraps a hand around his shaft and strokes what he doesn’t risk taking into his mouth. Quick learner. Lazy strokes and eager tongue, it’s a good combination that works on him better than he expected. 

Jesse forgets everything, including his name when Gabriel’s lips swallow down his shaft. It’s not his first blowjob, but it’s infinitely better than the sloppy, toothy one from Cole that he barely remembers through the haze of whiskey. 

Gabriel’s mouth is hot and wet, it’s blissfully skilled and Jesse can’t help but buck into the tight heat, losing himself to the incredible feeling and the promise of another orgasm. Control is a word he’s lost the meaning of - although Gabriel will say he never had it to begin with - his hips have a life of their own. Gabriel doesn’t stop him, just opens his throat and takes the entire length, until his nose touches pubes and his chin meets tight balls. 

If he could speak, he’d make a point of telling Jesse that this was how to deepthroat properly, but he can’t and Jesse’s spared that indignity. 

Jesse gives in to the sensations when he gets closer to the edge and the need for release is white hot in his stomach. So close. So close, just a little more-

-Gabriel pulls back, leaving Jesse on the precipice, so close to the edge but without the last kick to take him over. Jesse cries out, shamelessly begging Gabriel to come back and keep going, he drops more ‘please’s than he’s ever given in his life. Anything to feel that beautiful mouth engulf him again. Gabriel moves away, Jesse writhes on the mat with pent up need, unconscious of his actions, he reaches down to finish himself off, Gabriel kicks his hand away. 

“Leave it, you’ll thank me in a bit.” 

Jesse squirms, almost sobbing, “ain’t no thanks for torture.” 

“It’s not torture, it’s just you being an ingrate. You already had one, that’s enough for now.”

Jesse growls and grabs for the older man. It’s not happening, Gabriel doesn’t give in, he’s given a taster of a real blowjob and that’s all he’s willing to give. If he’s going to get his own mindblowing orgasm then he needs Jesse to have some lasting stamina. 

Besides, the way Jesse’s eyes always seem to land on his ass regardless of where they are or who else is around, he thinks the cowboy will enjoy the next part a whole lot more.

Jesse isn’t happy about the denial, he shakes, riding waves that have nowhere to go. It’s hell, he’s sure of it. 

Gabriel stands, leaving Jesse looking abandoned on the mats, he rolls his eyes at the whine and makes a note to punish Jesse with extra laps for calling him Gabe. From a locked draw next to his bed, he grabs a sachet of lube, tearing into it with his teeth as he walks back to the mats and drops down to his knees. 

Hungry eyes watch him and Jesse spreads his legs expectantly. Only Gabriel doesn’t come to him, instead he coats his fingers in the lube and reaches back, sliding them into himself. 

Jesse’s eyes widen as he puts two and two together, reaching an answer that leaves him speechless and thankful he never demanded the second orgasm. Never in a million years did the idea of Gabriel taking cock ever occur to him and fuck if he doesn’t come from the thought alone. He’s paralysed, can’t tear his eyes from what’s happening in front of him. 

Gabriel turns, drops his chest to the floor and raises his hips, giving Jesse the best view as he fingers himself. It’s not something he’d do for anyone else, but Jesse looks so awestruck and thankful for the opportunity that Gabriel can’t help but want to show off a little more than usual. It’s not like he isn’t used to the cowboys eyes permanently fixed on him whenever they’re together.

Honestly, it’s flattering when it isn’t getting in the way of their jobs. Most people are scared of him, but Jesse’s never been able to hide his crush. Maybe it’s because Jesse isn’t military, maybe because he grew up in a gang, maybe just because he is hardwired to be a smartass, but Gabriel respects him. Doesn’t always like what’s said, but have to admit the kid has balls when he refuses an order and puts his morals first. 

In the end, Gabriel enjoys having someone around who challenges him. And Jesse McCree is always a big challenge.

Jesse’s in a daze as he crawls forward and takes Gabriel’s firm buttocks in his hands, squeezing the mounds of flesh as he holds them apart to see how he stretches himself. 

Gabriel adds another finger and scissors himself, can’t hold back the moan. 

“I want to help,” Jesse manages to say after finding his voice. Granted his choice of porn has evidently taught him some terrible habits and expectations, but he’s pretty sure rimming can’t be half as hard as giving a good blowjob. At least there’s nothing to choke on.

Gabriel looks back over his shoulder, takes in the mess of the man behind him and nods, handing back the packet, expecting Jesse to finish the job. Jesse doesn’t take it. 

As soon as Gabriel’s fingers are free, leaving him exposed, Jesse is going for the kill. Dropping low and taking a long flicks of his tongue over the clenching hole, fingers clawed into flesh to hold him open. 

Gabriel chokes on a moan, so caught off guard that he needs time to recover. Jesse sucks harder, wearing Gabriel’s surprise like a medal. It’s nothing like he expected, he’d feared a foul taste, but it tastes overpoweringly of peppermint lube. Briefly he wonders if that was an intentional choice or not. Probably not, there’s no way Gabriel expected this. He flattens his tongue and drags is over the warm flesh, relishes the shudder and breathy call of his name. 

That he’s managed to surprise Gabriel is a treat in itself, it doesn’t happen often, but knowing it’s his work that’s undoing the older man and turning him to melted butter is probably the best feeling he’s had to date. 

It makes everything feel right.

Determined to see just how far he can push it - like everything else he does with Gabriel - Jesse gives a final lick and points his tongue, pushing it through the ring of muscle as deep as it can go. Gabriel moans deep, drops his head on his arms and presses back, grinding his ass on Jesse’s face. Jesse growls, grips the muscular globes tightly, denies Gabriel any movement as he flicks his tongue inside. Gabriel bucks and cries his name. 

And if that isn’t the most beautiful sound in the world, Jesse doesn’t want to hear what is. Peppermint tingles on his tongue. He snorts, unable to stop himself when all he can think of is how it’s like tongue fucking a polo mint. 

Jesse’s sloppier eating ass than he is giving a blowjob. Saliva trickles down the cleft of Gabriel’s ass, dripping from his balls to the mat. Jesse doesn’t care that his facial hair is covered in a mixture of saliva and lube, all that matters is how Gabriel bucks back against him, grinds his ass on his face and practically mewls for more. 

The way Gabriel moves, pressing back, fighting the restraining grip on his ass, Jesse’s pretty confident that he could make him cum just like this. Gabriel thinks so too, for a man who’s never done any oral before, Jesse has a wicked tongue. Through the lusty fog of his mind, Gabriel remembers telling Jack that Jesse had a smart mouth, funny how right he didn’t know he was. 

Jesse waits until Gabriel reaches back to wrap a hand around himself, stroke in time with Jesse’s thrusts. So close, he can feel Gabriel’s muscles tense around his tongue, the erratic movements of a man on the edge. 

Fair’s fair, one denied orgasm deserves another. Jesse pulls back, leaving Gabriel on the cusp. 

Payback’s a bitch.

There’s a string of curses and threats muttered into the mat as Gabriel fucks air. Jesse doesn’t hear them, they’re too mumbled, he can’t say he isn’t happy about that, it doesn’t sound happy. 

When the denial ebbs away and the need to finish cools back into arousal, Gabriel moves, slow and calculated, rounds on Jesse like a tiger ready to pounce. If he didn’t like Jesse before, he certainly does now, no one has ever had the guts to pull something like that on him before. Although to be fair, he has never given control to anyone else for them to try. Still, Jesse is full of surprises. 

“Feeling smug are we?”

Jesse grins, wipes his face dry with the back of his hand, “didn’t realise you were so minty fresh.” 

Gabriel tosses the squashed lube packet at him, there’s just enough left for Jesse, the rest is splattered over the mat. “Lube up, asshole.” 

“I thought you just did yours.” 

Gabriel narrows his eyes, throws a look of daggers, he wants what he was denied and he’s in no mood for Jesse’s quips. “Jesse, you little shit,” he says and it almost sounds affectionate. Almost. “Do you want to fuck me?”

What kind of question is that? Of course he does. In fact he’s never wanted anything as much as that. “Yes.”

“Great, now lube up and stop being a smart ass.”

Jesse bites his lip and holds his tongue. Gabriel’s well aware that Jesse talks to hide his nerves, he had that figured out back when Jesse was shooting at him as a Deadlock member. It’s only become more apparent over the years.

The lube’s cold on Jesse’s sweaty skin, kind of feels like he just stuck his dick in the freezer. It’s not the most pleasant of sensations but he deals with it, wants the next part more than he wants to complain.

“Alright, Boss, how do you want me?”

Gabriel flicks through a mental catalogue of ideas, there are so many possibilities and he likes them all. He files them away for next time, for now he wants control. “Stay where you are.” 

Jesse doesn’t move except to shift his weight more evenly on his elbows. Gabriel walks over on his knees, presses a hand to Jesse’s chest to keep him pinned in place and throws a leg over his thighs, landing heavy in his lap.

Gabriel’s solid, a tank of muscle looming over him, Jesse feels small and vulnerable in comparison. It doesn’t help that Gabriel’s looking down at him with an expression he knows is daring him to fuck up. Already too close to orgasm for comfort - and he doubts anyone would be faring better with a lap full of Reyes - the look isn’t helping except to ramp up his nervousness.

In a smooth, practiced moved Jesse definitely didn’t see in a porno, Gabriel lowers his weight and sinks onto his throbbing length. Jesse doesn’t breathe, lest it ruin the moment. 

Gabriel pauses, relishes the stretch and burn of the girthy invasion. Kicks himself for spending so long denying he wanted to do this. He starts slow, rocking his hips, circling them in a spiral until all Jesse’s sees is stars. 

It’s like nothing Jesse’s ever experienced before. There have been women, men, even an omnic when he was feeling more daring, but those were trysts, one night stands to blow off the ever present tension of Blackwatch. It hadn’t been about pleasure, it had been about release, couldn’t be about anything else when the threat of being discovered was an ever present danger. Even before that, with the Deadlock gang, his pickings were slim, too low on the ladder to attract the right attention. 

Then there’s Gabriel, the man who gave him everything and risked his reputation to give Jesse a home. 

The man who feels so incredible around him, so tight on his cock that Jesse’s almost in tears. It’s pleasure like he never imagined pleasure could be. He’d thought rubbing one out in the shower felt good, but it pales in comparison to how Gabriel feels.

Gabriel does stay slow for long, as soon as his body is used to the size, he’s riding hard and fast, setting a pace that feels like heaven. Bliss is etched over his usually stern face. Jesse may as well be a living dildo for all the work he’s putting in, just laying there, hands viciously tight on Gabriel’s thighs. Not that he could move even if he wanted to find the coordination to do so, he’s pinned down, at the mercy of his commander’s whims - but he’s used to that and he isn’t ever going to complain about it.

Gabriel moves faster, lifting himself effortlessly with huge thighs and rippling muscles. Jesse sees his opening finally does something - another thing Gabriel isn’t expecting - as Gabriel lifts himself, Jesse bucks up hard, inadvertently finding his prostate. Gabriel chokes a moan and claws at Jesse’s chest, roughly pinching a sensitive nipple.

Neither man can last long, the buildup has been too intense and they’re both too close to the edge to go for a long round. Next time - and there will be a next time, Gabriel’s decided that already - they’ll go for stamina, really test Jesse’s limits. 

Although Jesse’s doing well, concentrating so hard on not coming early that his face is all screwed up. He forgets to breathe, can’t rightly remember how to draw a breath, his lungs burn until he gulps down air like a drowning man.

They’re both slick with sweat. The room isn’t overly hot but they both radiate heat like furnaces.

Gabriel’s lost in the moment, all thought processes diverted to acknowledging how amazing Jesse feels and looks under him. The pace is savage as he drops his weight and grinds, finding the perfect angle to attack his prostate.

And there it is. 

He growls low in his throat, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of sensations. 

There’s no way Gabriel expected to cum first, but he does. The room’s soundproof, a safeguard for any sensitive information he might be talking about on the console, and it’s a good thing it is because he shouts and cries out so loudly that passers by might think he’s being murdered. It’s the release he’s needed for weeks, the stress dissipates like smoke, the tension in his muscles washed away like writing in the sand of a tropical beach. He rides out the release, prolonging the pleasure as long as he can.

His ass clenches, squeezing Jesse’s cock mercilessly, finally it’s enough to push the cowboy over the edge.

Gabriel can practically feel Jesse’s cock pulsing inside him as he shoots ribbon after ribbon deep into his insides. It’s surprising how quiet Jesse is, like he’s forgotten how to run his mouth. 

That makes for a nice change. 

Gabriel rolls off before he crushes McCree under his weight, flops to the mat in a daze and surrenders to the pleasant feeling tingling through his body. His cock twitches in orgasmic aftershock, leaking more cum down his thigh. He bucks his hips, chases the ghostly feeling. Everything feels too much, too oversensitive, the sticky rubber under his back irritates the skin, lube and cum itches. 

Jesse sprawls over the mat, sore, sated and tired. Sweat evaporates quickly, leaving him half shivering but not uncomfortable enough to find his clothes. His limbs feel like lead, too heavy to move.

“That was really good,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

Gabriel grunts in reply, too far gone to search for his voice and find some fitting words. Everything aches in a perfect way, pain numbed by pleasure. He turns his head, looks appraisingly at Jesse covered in bites and scratches, bruises in varying shades of healing. Territory well and truly marked. His own body doesn’t fair much better, Jesse’s marked his territory too, presumptuous bastard. There’s a hicky on his neck that means he has no choice but to wear a hoodie for the next week and hope no one notices. 

It’s either the start of something great or something terrible, but they’re both in too deep to pretend it doesn’t exist anymore. If nothing else, it’ll be a passionate whirlwind of many little somethings.

Blackwatch is dangerous work, they both know it and accept it, every mission could be their last so they live for the now and right now they want to enjoy each other’s company. Maybe one day it will change, evolve again into something different, leave them both re-evaluating if it’s good for them. Right now, it works and works and that’s all that matters.

Gabriel reaches over, splays his fingers over Jesse’s stomach, through tacky cum and sweat that glues his body hair together. It’s going to be uncomfortable if they don’t clean up. 

There’s a gentleness in his touch that draws Jesse’s attention. Deep in thought, Gabriel doesn’t register he’s being watched and scrutinised by a man too smart for his own good. Jesse doesn’t look down to see how Gabriel’s hands fondle his chubby belly or how he trails featherlight touches over old scars and wounds. No, Jesse watches his face. Even in the glaring light of the bright overheads, Gabriel looks at peace, his dark eyes barely open, full lips parted, perfectly content to touch and think. He looks ten years younger, like the weight of an entire organisation doesn’t rest on his shoulders. 

It’s an alien look on Gabriel to be so at ease and unguarded. Jesse likes it, feels proud that he was good enough to reduce his hard-ass commander to a state of nirvana. Jesse’s willing to bet good, hard earned money that no one ever gets to see this side of Gabriel, he knows how much trust there must be between them for Gabriel to let him see it at all. 

Yet here it is, no walls, no scowl, no emotionless facade. The man who can dominate a battlefield and tear through enemies like butter, is melted and sated on the floor, covered in cum and bite marks. 

Without thinking, Jesse reaches over, runs the back of his hand over Gabriel’s cheek, brushing the old scars on his cheekbone. The illusion is shattered. Gabriel’s eyes snap open, suddenly aware, he sneers and roughly shoves himself up into a sitting position. Jesse watches as the once blissed face hardens and the usual mask is pulled back into place, he can see the muscles tighten and twist into the Reyes he knows. Like a balaclava on a bank thief, Jesse thinks, hiding the real person underneath.

If Jesse didn’t know Gabriel better, he’d think he was embarrassed at being caught. 

“Get up, you’re not sleeping there.” 

Jesse looks like a kicked puppy, hurt and betrayed by the sudden shift in tone. He opens his eyes to meet the scowl, it stings to be spoken to that way after what they just shared. Anger burns bright at the dismissal and he thinks about arguing, throwing a few sassy lines and make it known that he deserves better, but decides it’s a terrible idea if he wants a repeat. He rolls himself over to push himself up. Everything hurts and burns, bruises the size of baseballs litter his skin, pulling and aching with every move. He doesn’t see Gabriel’s expression shift under the guilt as he comes to the conclusion that yes, he’s been a bit overly rough. Jesse’s not a super soldier, sometimes Gabriel forgets that. It’s not hard to when Jesse is at his side through every fight and takes it all the punishment of Blackwatch just as well as Gabriel. 

“Leave them,” Gabriel says as Jesse starts collecting his clothes.

“I won your wager, I’m not walking back naked.”

“No,” Gabriel agrees as he walks towards his bed and peels back the covers, “it’s late, you can stay if you want.” 

If he wants? Jesse’s never heard anything so stupid in all his life, of course he wants. His body forgets to hurt as he wipes off the cum on his chest with his shirt and darts across the room, diving into the bed before Gabriel can change his mind. He sinks into the bed like he belongs there, takes over the covers and settles in for a comfortable sleep. The bed is the first real one he’s slept in for years, it makes his cot feel like concrete in comparison. The soft mattress is a luxury itself and he isn’t expecting more, so when Gabriel spoons behind him he can practically hear a choir of angels singing from the heavens. Because really, it’s everything he’s dreamed of but convinced himself could never happen.

And isn’t it disgusting how perfectly Gabriel moulds against him? Like they were made to slot together. 

“Tell anyone about this and I’ll shoot you myself,” Gabriel mutters into his hair. There’s no real threat behind the words, just a man wanting the final say.

Not that Jesse will let him have it, “ain’t no one gonna believe me anyway, Boss.” Jesse hums in contentment and presses back, mouth wide in a smile. No way he’d tell anyone anyway, selfishly he wants to keep this part of Gabriel for himself and never share it. It’s his treasure. 

Gabriel stays awake long after Jesse falls asleep. Pays attention to the rhythmic breathing and heartbeat, the soft snores and twitching muscles as Jesse dreams. Outside the wars still rage, gangs still rule and there’s a neverending list of work for Blackwatch, but right here and now, there’s peace and the outside world can’t disturb them.

Jesse’s a comforting weight against his chest, soft and warm. An anchor of something good in a world of something bad. 

It’s a bad idea to continue this, Gabriel knows he should end it before it goes any further, should never have let it get this far in the first place, but he can’t. As selfish as it is, he wants it and he isn’t letting go.

Jesse rolls over in his sleep, mumbles something unintelligible and digs into the brooding warmth of Gabriel until he can wedge his head under Gabriel’s chin and breathe in the musky scent.

Gabriel sighs softly and wraps his arms around McCree, holds him close, breathes in the scent he hopes lingers on his bedsheets for a few days. Jesse nuzzles his face into his neck, murmurs happy little sounds and drools. 

Gabriel takes a deep breath, strokes the warms body and allows himself to drift off while thinking of other ways to spend their nightly meetups. Jesse doesn’t need hand to hand training anymore, but Gabriel has plenty of lessons still to teach.

Maybe in a few days...they need to heal up first.


End file.
